


Father's Day

by Haruhiryu



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: DO NOT GIVE CHILDREN ALCOHOL, F/M, Family Fluff, Father's Day-ish, my FEA OTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4190439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haruhiryu/pseuds/Haruhiryu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A knight (and a father's) work is never done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (Belated) Father's Day to Fathers and Fathers-to-be!
> 
> 'Tis a bit late, I know...but I had such an urge to write this. This is intended to be an one-shot, but I may have a similar story, with different circumstances, as a chapter 2. ...One day...maybe...in the FAR future.
> 
> If you know my writing...you probably already know the pairing, but I'm not going to say much in the tags. Also T-rating due to hintings of sexual interaction and mentioning alcohol.
> 
> Anyway...please enjoy.
> 
> I do not own or have the rights to Fire Emblem Awakening or any of the characters.

…It was a long day. Frederick walked the empty corridor, stretching slightly. Since Robin’s return, the knight had stopped wearing his whole suit of armor; instead, only wearing it when escorting Chrom out of Ylisse, when dignitaries came, or when he was teaching the recruits, which rotated every three days. Not that he didn’t keep in shape, being that he still woke at the crack of dawn to train for at least two hours. Nor did it mean that he slacked in the training of Ylisse’s soldiers, being that he attended every morning training session. No, it was just the fact that he didn’t need to wear the armor daily, since the world was at peace, and well…with his duties of taking care of the royal children, being without armor was usually the smartest course.

The day had started out normally, with the usual hijinks and shenanigans. What had surprised him was bed time. Wood was tame this night, no doubt from all the screaming and playing he did in the courtyard; Frederick only checked in on the boy, seeing Vaike handling the affair with ease. Cyn, like always, went to bed quickly; he only needed to briefly check in on the girl when Sumia tucked the child in. No, the problem was strangely Lucy. Chrom had run through all his usual tactics, such as reading to her, letting her snuggle into him, singing lullabies, warm milk, and even promising an extra treat on the morrow, but nothing worked. Sumia was called, and still the Princess would not sleep. Finally he was brought in, called from his study where he was preparing inventory for the guard.

Frederick was a magician when it came to making children sleep, thanks to his version of warm milk. No one knew why, and Frederick wouldn’t reveal the recipe. In truth, he was a bit ashamed to use the tactic, but it ALWAYS worked. A cup of milk, honey enough to make teeth rot, and a small spoonful of rum. ***** He had learned the trick from an old nursemaid, and used it on Lissa, and sometimes Chrom, when they were young. He hated the fact that he deceived the parents, but he was relied on to put the children to sleep, and he did just that. The children didn’t know any better, and the parents couldn’t taste the rum, being that either their taste buds were dead due to excess drinking, or the honey covered it.

…And so, that was his-

“Hnnnmmmm…”

The man stopped, looking for where the whimper came. In a few seconds, he heard the soft sob again. Taking a few steps back, he stopped at Robin’s study.

The knight went to the door and knocked. “Robin? Are you in?” The soft whimper ten seconds later was his only reply. He twisted the knob, realizing it wasn’t locked. If it were, she would have been back in her quarters, but obviously, she was still working. “I’m coming in.” …Nothing.

Entering the study, Frederick looked around. Overall, the room was dark, but the table near the partially open window had a candle burning, books haphazardly stacked, and papers under various unconventional paperweights. With a few steps more, he easily found the noise. Wandering over, the brunet looked into the bassinet. A babe, a little over a month old, whimpered in his swaddle. “What’s wrong, Marc?” He gently stroked the child’s cheek, leading to a soft squeak. “Where’s mother?” The child gave no response, only another whimper. Robin was forgetful sometimes, but she would NEVER forget Marc. Based on the room’s interior, she probably went to get more tea, which had been a ritual, even during times of war, to keep her up through the night. “I do hope you’re not hungry. I can’t feed you.” He picked up the infant, pulling him to his chest. One last whimper escaped his lips as the little one snuggled into Frederick’s embrace, leading a chuckle to escape the knight’s lips. “You wanted to be held, huh? Quite a demanding babe, aren’t you? Just like your mother.” Really, Marc wasn’t. He cried like normal babies, but he was never overly demanding. In comparison to the other Shepherd’s children, Marc was quite calm; still, the man was allowed a gentle jab at the Tactician every now and again, especially when said Tactician was not in hearing range.

Looking around, infant still in hand, Frederick finally decided to sit in Robni’s chair. He stared at the infant for what felt like hours, but it was really only a few minutes, a soft smile on his face. Before he knew it, a pair of arms encircled his neck.

“Having father-son bonding?” A whisper tickled his ear, making Frederick turn to the speaker.

“Is that so wrong? He wanted to be held, and mother dearest was away.”

“Less than ten minutes,” A pout appeared on her face. “He was fed and changed not long ago. I assumed leaving him alone for a little would be fine.”

“And yet, I heard his little whimpers.”

“Stop teasing, Freddy-bear.”

“Only when you stop, love.” Their lips meet, forgetting their Marc for a few seconds.

“...I heard there were some problems with Lu tonight.” He hummed, leaning into her, eyes still on their boy. “Did she take some of Freddy’s nighttime brew?”

“She did, yes.”

“You know you’ll never be allowed to give Marc that, yes?” They made eye contact; his eyebrow arched. “Don’t feign ignorance, dear. You may give a bit of alcohol to the Exalt’s children, but I will have none of that.”

“Alcohol, my dear? What crazy thoughts are you thinking?”

She hummed. “Maybe I was mistaken. Must have been some other poor sap’s rum on the kitchen table.”

Did he forget to put the alcohol away? He usually wasn’t forgetful. “Maybe it was milord’s? He had a hectic day as well.”

“Chrom likes scotch or ale, dear. He rarely, if ever, drinks rum.”

Sometimes he hated having such a sharp wife. “I forgot. I had some earlier.”

“Love, you don’t drink; the exception being wine at meals.” She kissed his cheek. “Sometimes it’s best to let a matter drop when you’re ahead.” The man sighed; such a troublesome woman. “Well, this will be our little secret.” She nuzzled him. “And don’t worry. …I lied. The rum wasn’t on the table, you had put it away.”

“...If you had your grasp on a lesser man, he would be dead by now.”

A soft, almost fluttering, giggle welled up, sending a chill through Frederick’s spine. “I’m glad I didn’t marry such a man, then.”

A few minutes pass in silence, creating a tranquil lull.

After a while, the Tactician slipped away from her husband, stepping in front of him. “Pass him, please.” He stares at her unorthodox outfit, which was quite the norm; her Plegian coat on the outside, since she wouldn’t be rid of it due to her stubbornness, and a soft lavender gown that complemented her figure, yet remained modest. He looked down at the boy, seeing the wisps of brown slowly growing. “Frederick.”

“So demanding…Marc, you take after your mother, so.” With his jape, he passed their son and was about to stand, but was gently pushed back into the seat. Following the implied order, he was rewarded with his wife sitting in his lap, curling into his hold; Marc’s little body snug between both parents. Kissing her head softly, the two stare absently at the little life in her arms.

Robin returned a little over three years ago, but only in the past year did they finally conceive. Both had started worrying that something was wrong with one, or both of them, after all, it wasn’t as if they weren’t trying, but Naga finally rewarded them, and they had their Marc.

It wasn’t as if Morgan, their child from some unknown future, wasn’t enough, if it occurred as such. No, they loved that boy as if he was their own. …No, that was wrong, he was their son. Still, both had wanted a baby; not from some divine, unexplainable workings, but from their own effort. With luck, and Naga’s grace, here was the fruit of their labor.

Unconventionally, the three still lived in the palace. Not because they wanted to, for really, both wanted their own abode. No, the problem was finding the perfect house. None that they looked at matched Frederick’s high standards. So, either they would find perfection (which Frederick promised they would), or the knight would build the house, before Marc reached the age of five. Due to this, they continued to live in the castle, sharing a comfortable quarters gifted by Chrom.

Feeling a slight bump against his face, Frederick opened his eyes, snapping out of reverie. In his face was Marc, who was being held vertically by Robin, staring at him with wide, brown eyes. His little face bumped into his once again, but this time he was prepared, kissing his boy’s little cheek. The action earned a soft coo from the infant as Robin retracted the babe again. Realizing her husband was finally paying attention, she drew the child closer to the brunet’s face again, but this time included, “Happy Father’s Day!” In a soft whisper.

Finally lowering the child, the two looked up at him expectantly. Frederick blinked. “That’s not till tomorrow, love.”

“Did you doze there, Daddy? Midnight’s come and gone; it’s Father’s Day.”

“I see.” He gave his treasures a soft smile, kissing both.

“You’ll be home all day tomorrow, right? I already got permission, for both of us, from Chrom.”

He flinched, but knew how important it was to her, and to himself; after all, they both shared Mother’s Day together as well. Also, even though they had celebrated the event with Morgan, this was his real, first, “legitimate” day. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Okay, let’s go home then. I don’t think I can concentrate any longer anyway.” She slipped off his lap, allowing him to stand and stretch briefly. He reached for his son, and the baby, sleeping once again, was passed to him. Blowing out the candle, Robin took Frederick’s free hand, leading him out of her study, returning to their room.

Yes, today would be a very good Father’s Day…

**Author's Note:**

> * Do not give alcohol to children! Do not use on children! I made this up! I have no idea if it works! I am not liable for people following these fictional remedies!


End file.
